


Impact

by Kuroimachi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Mentions of Kuroo/Terushima, Overuse of the word 'Bro'
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-07-11 21:09:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7070374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuroimachi/pseuds/Kuroimachi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo is having a hard week. Really all he wants is a quiet drink, but...Bokuto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this sitting around for weeks and weeks, finally gotten it feeling right.
> 
> I LOVE Kuroo and Bokuto, I hope I've done them justice. 
> 
> This will be somewhat of a slow-build, a little twisty-turny perhaps. The rating will likely go up. Just saying.

Smoke unfurls from his lips in milky ribbons, swirling upwards and melting into the fog that hangs above. Long fingers tap the cigarette on the edge of the glass ashtray that sits on the table in front of him; he lifts the cigarette back to his mouth and takes another long, satisfying drag. What a week. What a fucking week.

Kuroo removes the cigarette with one hand, exhaling a storm with a heavy sigh, and with the other hand he brings his drink to his lips and drains what’s left of it. He slumps back in his seat, shoulder’s relaxing slightly and legs spreading wide under the table. The amber liquid burns down his throat, he feels the heat of it spread through his chest and into his stomach. With that burn, comes relief.

What a _long_ fucking week.

He sits alone at a table in the dimly-lit bar, smoking his way steadily through his pack of cigarettes and sipping on straight whiskey. Idly, he slides a hand inside his leather jacket and retrieves his phone from the pocket. Upon unlocking it, he notices a new, brightly lit icon that wasn’t there previously. Kenma has downloaded yet another new game onto it. This has become quite the habit of his flatmate. If there’s anything to be gained from interacting with other players in a game that Kenma is playing, he’ll download it onto Kuroo’s phone as well so that he can play on there simultaneously and use it to raise the level on his main account.  Kuroo doesn’t mind and he can rely on Kenma to effortlessly ignore any incoming sexts or dick-pics.

“You having another?” Kuroo glances at the glass, empty but for melting ice cubes, and then looks up at the barman from beneath the sweep of dark hair covering his eye. Kuroo has known this kid for a while. He’s in college, five years younger than Kuroo is; he’s got a badly bleached undercut and a tongue stud that Kuroo knows the feel of. Intimately.

“Yeah, gimme one more.” Kuroo replies handing the dirtied glass over, “Hey, when are you getting off tonight?” They’ve fucked a few times. Neither of them have tried to take things any further than that. Kuroo hadn’t really meant to do it the first time, but the kid had whispered all the right, dirty things in his ear with sparkling ‘fuck me’ eyes…and then there was that tongue stud.

“Whenever you’re ready, babycakes.” The boy, Terushima, replies with a wink. It’s over the top, but somehow the kid just makes it work for him. He takes the glass and strolls back to the bar to fetch another whiskey. Kuroo smiles, predatory and pleased. It really has been a long week and Terushima has just helped Kuroo realise exactly what he needs - a tight little piece to bounce up and down on his cock until all the tension is worked out of him. Teru is an enthusiastic lay too, Kuroo could literally lie back and do nothing and the sex would still be good. When the blonde returns with a replacement drink for Kuroo, he hangs around for a while, they talk about what they’ve been up to recently and flirt, unashamedly, back and forth. However, their interactions are cut short by fresh a wave of arriving patrons that requires Terushima to return to the bar.

Kuroo’s attention finds its way back to his phone and he checks the time. He’s been in the bar a little while, the people coming in now will be the evening crowd, the people setting out for a heavy Friday night. He thinks about what _his_ plan for the evening should be; Teru won’t get out of the bar until about midnight, so he could stay where he is and drink by himself until Terushima finishes _or_ he could call somebody up to join him in the meantime. Kenma never comes out with him. He’s got Hinata with him tonight; last Kuroo heard they were planning on playing games and ordering pizza. Kuroo mentally flicks through his list of possible drinking buddies. Daichi had mentioned at work earlier that he’d be out for a few beers with Suga at some point that evening. Kuroo loved hanging out with Daichi and Suga. He’d known Daichi since college, had helped him get his current job. Suga was a real laugh too, Kuroo adored him. He was cute as fuck and a force to be reckoned with. Kuroo really got a kick out of flirting with him and making Daichi squirm a bit. The silver-haired beauty had drunkenly revealed to him at a party once that whenever Kuroo flirted with him Daichi would always take him home and fuck him until he couldn’t remember his own name. Suga had made it very clear, Kuroo should not stop. He’s just about to message to Daichi to see where he is, when a body comes crashing down, skidding across his table, knocking his drinking flying and head-butting his phone out of his hands. The whiskey dribbles off of the edge of the leather seat and creeps, in a puddle, across the floor.

“What the actual fuck!” He snaps, jumping up, face full of fury. He peers down the length of his body at the man laying sprawled across the table. Two big eyes stare back up at him, upside-down. They’re no colour Kuroo can recall ever seeing before, though if he had to put a name to them he’d call them gold, and they’re blinking up at him underneath a lop-sided smile.

“Apologies, bro!” The man grins and Kuroo’s mind falters for a moment. He looks like a puppy turned on its back, paws in the air. Waiting for its tummy to be rubbed.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing exactly?” Kuroo spits, thought process recovering. The man rolls over and slides off the table, righting himself on the side opposite from Kuroo, smoothing down his clothes.

“Hey hey hey, I said sorry.” Kuroo looks over the man in front of him. He’s tall - and _built,_ Kuroo notices reluctantly. Those big, golden eyes are certainly something, but even more noticeable is his hair, which is vertical sweep of white streaked with black. “Ogano, here…” The white-haired man gestures to the empty space behind him, when he looks around he realises his friends have fled a safe distance away from Kuroo and his thunderous expression, “We were just wrestling a bit and it got out of hand.” He holds up his hands in surrender and smiles sheepishly.

“Yeah, well, you and your friend owe me a drink.” Kuroo drawls, crossing his arms and cocking his hip. His eyes are narrow, lips set in a straight line. He looks intimidating, all dark hair and dark glare. A little hipster vampire, but intimidating none-the-less.

“No problem, I’ll replace it! What’re you having?” The man replies, either ignoring Kuroo’s menacing stare or simply not feeling its effect.

“Whiskey. Nikka.” Kuroo says bluntly.

“Niiiiiice.” The white-haired man throws finger-guns at Kuroo, before bounding over to the bar. Kuroo slumps back down in his seat and recovers his phone. He taps out a quick message to Daichi: _In OatP. Some dick is trying to ruin my night. Where are you and Suga?_ He glances up at the bar where said dick is leaning over to say something in Terushima’s ear. The blonde looks over at Kuroo and raises his eyebrows. There’s a question in Teru’s expression, Kuroo shakes his head and waves a hand in reply. Nothing to worry about. He continues to watch as the blonde pours out two drinks and hands them over to the white-haired man, who picks up one in each hand and makes his way back over towards Kuroo, shouting at his friends and sidestepping people in the fast-filling bar.

“Here. One to replace the one I spilled,” He places a glass carefully on the table, “and this is the one I would totally have bought you anyway because you’re hot. If Ogano hadn’t fucked up my entrance with his Stone Cold bullshit!” He finishes, setting down another drink next to it. Kuroo raises an eyebrow at the slightly cocky attitude and watches, somewhat incredulously, as the guy slides into the seat opposite. “Bokuto Koutarou.” The guy says, holding out a hand across the table. Kuroo considers him for a moment before he takes it. It really has been a long week; Kuroo knows that normally he’d brush this sort of shit off. Fuck, normally Kuroo is the one _doing_ this kind of shit. And worse shit than this! So, despite how strung out he is, Kuroo just can’t find it in himself to stay pissed. This guy is sort of cute and goofy, with his big grin and even bigger eyes.

“Kuroo Tetsuro.” He says taking Bokuto’s hand firmly. The man’s eyes light up.

“Cool name, man.” He seems so genuine when he says it.

 “Thanks.” Kuroo says with a slightly raised eyebrow. “And thanks for the drink.” Their hands stay clasped for a few seconds longer than is really necessary. Bokuto has nice hands, they’re large and surprisingly gentle, his fingers are thick but not stubby. Finally, Kuroo’s pulls his hand away from Bokuto’s warm grip. “You not drinking?” 

“I’ll get one of the guys to get me one in a bit. We overdid it a little pre-drinking at Konoha’s before we came out, man, I’m feeling kind of out of it right now!” Kuroo glances up at the guys who had run away when Bokuto had made his big entrance. They are standing by the bar, beers in hand, laughing and checking out the boys and girls who walk past. “Anyway, I figure Ogano owes me one after that dick move he pulled!” Kuroo picks up one of the glasses and puts it in front of Bokuto.

“Here. Have this one. You’ve had an embarrassing evening, having your ass handed to you in front of everyone…”

“Hey hey! He cheated! I’m gonna fucking _floor him_ later!” Kuroo snorts. Bokuto’s voice is booming out across the bar; he’s far too loud, but Kuroo doesn’t mind. He finds it amusing. Bokuto’s friends break out it fresh laughter, Ogano grips his stomach bent almost in two.

“Well, you’d think you’d be able to beat him easily with the muscles that you’re packing.” He says it drily, intending to rib the other man a bit more, but Bokuto’s eyebrows rise and a delighted smile breaks out across his face.

“Oho, you like these, bro?” Bokuto brings his hands up behind his head and flexes so that his biceps strain against his rolled-up sleeves and his shirt pulls tight across his chest. Kuroo takes a sip of his whiskey. “I’ve got all the secrets, man,” He puts his arms down and leans closer to Kuroo peering at him appraisingly, “you’ve got some decent groundwork, but you could definitely see some gains if you trained with me.”

“You a gym bunny, then?”

“Professional, bro. I’m a personal trainer.” Kuroo can believe that, it fits perfectly.

“Ahh. I don’t know if I could keep up. I try to get to the gym a couple of times a week but my job keeps me pretty busy at the moment.” Kuroo tenses a little at the thought of his job and takes another sip of whiskey. Bokuto mirrors his action, taking a sip of his own.

“What do you do?” He asks eagerly.

“I’m a sports journalist for an online men’s magazine.” Bokuto’s eyes flash and he slams both his hands down on the table.

“Bro! That is so cool!” He’s practically shouting again and Kuroo can’t help the way his lips curl up into a smile. It’s been a little while since anyone was really that impressed by his job.

“Eh, it’s ok. Hard work. My boss is being a bit of a dick right now.” Bokuto nods sagely. Kuroo can’t help but appreciate what a handsome face this guy has. He’s all sharp jaw, sharp eyebrows and sharp eyes.

“So, you out tonight blowing off steam then?”

“That’s right.” Bokuto peers around suddenly as if he’s looking for someone.

“By yourself?” Something about Bokuto’s expression looks genuinely confused. Kuroo smirks. He gestures towards the bar.

“See that blonde guy, the one that served you?” Bokuto glances back at Terushima who is surrounded by a big group of women at the bar, giggling out names of cocktails like Screaming Orgasm and eyeing the blonde with determined sparkles in their eyes. “He and I have an arrangement. He’s definitely not going home with any of them tonight, y’know?”

“Oho?”

“Ohoho.” Kuroo returns, deadpan.

“Lucky, bro!” Bokuto replies, gleaming smile breaking out across his face.

“You have no idea.”

“He is mad hot!” Kuroo nods smugly. “But…he’s not your boyfriend or anything?” Bokuto asks, head cocked to the side slightly.

“Nah, nothing like that, man. Just a little fun between grown-ups every now and then, y’know?”

“Sure, sure.” Bokuto smiles and takes another quick glance at Terushima, who is pouring glass after glass of brightly coloured cocktail for the group of women. The two enter into easy conversation. Bokuto is infinitely impressed by Kuroo’s encyclopaedic knowledge of sports teams and statistics. This makes Kuroo blush. He, meanwhile, finds himself laughing a lot at Bokuto’s extremely enthusiastic manner. He is drawn in more and more by glittering eyes and deep, booming voice. Bokuto tells Kuroo a story about dressing up as a cheerleader during his college days and accidentally flashing everyone in a McDonalds. He gestures wildly with his whole body, he does the voices for different people and laughs himself, despite it being his own story (and one he’s told dozens of times).

“Oi, Bokuto! We’re bored, we wanna head to Sakura after this one! You coming, man?” One of Bokuto’s friends shouts from across the bar. The group are all pulling their jackets back on and downing their drinks.

“Be right there!” Bokuto shouts back and then turns to face Kuroo. He knocks back the rest of the whiskey in one go, shakes his head and lets out a loud _whoooo_ as he slams the glass down on the table. His eyes are wild and he seems wound up tight, like he’s about to do something crazy. “Come with us!” Kuroo is taken aback slightly at the sudden invitation. This hadn’t really been a part of his plan – obviously. All he’d wanted was a few drinks, to relax after a long week. He’d been looking forward to taking Teru home at the end of the night, railing into him (twice, if he could manage it) and then sleeping until noon the next day. Now, here was this guy, this guy who had crashed his night - literally - and… and Kuroo doesn’t want him to leave it just yet.

“Where’re you heading?”

“Sakura! Come! I’ll introduce you to the guys. I’ll get Ogano to buy us both a couple of drinks!” Kuroo can’t help but find Bokuto’s excitement cute. It’s infectious. He’s practically vibrating, gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turn white. Kuroo can feel it. He succumbs to it.

“Sure. Why not.” Kuroo shrugs, but he has to put effort into seeming nonchalant about it.

“Yeah! Finish your drink, Kuroo!” Bokuto commands, pointing at the unemptied glass. “We’re gonna have fun!” Kuroo drains the glass and checks his phone. There’s a message from Daichi: _You ok? Still in OatP? Me and Suga are in Mint with people. Head over?_ Kuroo replies whilst following Bokuto toward the bar: _Heading to Sakura. Come find me._

“Teru.” Kuroo calls, leaning over the bar around the side where nobody is standing, the blonde looks upon hearing his name.

“You alright?” He asks, coming over to pour a pint from a tap near where Kuroo is standing.

“Yeah, listen, I’m gonna head to Sakura with these guys,” he motions vaguely behind him, “you wanna meet me there later?”

Teru leans slightly to peer in the direction Kuroo indicated, “Ok, I’ll call you when I’m outside, yeah?”

“Yeah. Laters.” Kuroo flashes him a smile and Terushima smiles back before turning to hand the pint over to the guy the other side of the bar waiting for it. Kuroo makes his way to the front of the bar, through the large window he can see Bokuto and his friends waiting on the pavement outside. It’s bitterly cold and, as he steps outside, Kuroo pulls the collar of his jacket up to shield his neck. He reaches into a pocket and pulls a pack of cigarettes from it, taps one out and rests it comfortably on his bottom lip whilst he fishes around for his lighter.

“You smoke?” Bokuto suddenly appears inches from his face. Kuroo blinks.

“Yeah, you want one?” He asks, cigarette still resting on his lip; it bounces up and down as he speaks. Bokuto wrinkles his nose.

“Nah.” Kuroo just shrugs and lights it. “Hey, Kuroo, when you were a kid did you ever pretend that you were a dragon when you could see your breath like this?” Bokuto asks, breathing into the air, mouth open wide. He clouds the air in front of his face briefly with his breath and then does it again once it disappears. He looks gleeful.

“Of course.”

Bokuto grins at Kuroo then, breathing his dragon-breath at him. It smells like whiskey. Kuroo sort of thinks there’s something right about that somehow because…dragons would like whiskey? Bokuto has stopped breathing fire in favour of studying Kuroo’s mouth. Kuroo notices. He licks his lips so that they glisten slightly. Slowly, he wraps his mouth around the cigarette and takes a long drag, the glow from the tip reflects in his eyes for a moment. Bokuto is mesmerised. The dark-haired boy turns his head slightly and exhales in a rush of smoke from his mouth and nose.

“Rarrr!”


	2. Chapter 2

Every muscle in his abdomen aches deeply and perfectly. He can’t remember the last time he laughed so hard or for so long. One thing is for certain, all the stress and misery of Kuroo’s week has dissolved into the darkness and heavy beat thrumming in the air around them. They’ve barely left the dance floor since they arrived. Every time Kuroo has tried to leave, Bokuto has wrestled him back, refusing to let him go even for a moment. Once or twice Kuroo has pretended to slip away just to feel the other man’s hands on him again.

Kuroo looks down, his vision just starting to blur slightly around the edges. He finds himself mesmerised by the light-up tiles of the dancefloor; a dazzling patchwork of rainbow beneath their feet. People press in around them.

“I fucking love this song!” Bokuto shouts into Kuroo’s ear, grinning wildly. He has said that about every other song at least, Kuroo thinks fondly, gazing at him with slow, drunken eyes. He listens for a moment, trying to work out what exactly it is that he’s hearing. He blinks a few times upon recognising the song.

“Taylor Swift?” He shouts back, eyebrow raised. “Really?” Bokuto nods with his eyes closed, singing along to the words.

“But I keep on cruising, can’t stop, won’t stop mooooving…” his arms plunge through the air like he’s swimming freestyle. Kuroo is enraptured by the way the rolled-up sleeves of the other man’s t-shirt strain around his biceps. “Come on, bro!” Before Kuroo really knows what’s happening Bokuto’s hands are on him; they slide down the length of his arms and then clasp his hands. He pulls Kuroo forwards until their bodies press against one another. Kuroo can’t think fast enough, his brain lags; it’s still stuck on the thought that they’re holding hands, when it should be screaming about being joined with Bokuto from chest to thigh and the searing heat that runs through his body at the contact. Bokuto is just a shade shorter and he looks up at Kuroo’s face with a satisfied grin. His eyes are molten, gold and glittering. He draws Kuroo’s hands behind him and places them on the small of his back. He continues to look right at the taller boy, waiting. A couple of beats pass and Bokuto seems to think that’s time enough. He sets the dark-haired man’s hands free, turns and suddenly Kuroo finds himself with a face full of black and white hair and Bokuto’s backside grinding firmly into his crotch, “Baby I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake. Shake it off! Shake it off!”

 

Kuroo lets out a nervous laugh. His arms are suspended in the air either side of Bokuto’s waist, hanging awkwardly. He doesn’t know what he should do with them. Bokuto makes the decision for him; he takes Kuroo’s hands in his again, presses them to his chest and then drags them down the entire length of his torso, rolling his body into Kuroo’s palms as they move downwards. Plains and ridges of hard muscles flex under Kuroo’s fingertips and, between that and Bokuto still grinding against him, he’s in very real danger of popping a boner on the dancefloor. He panics.

 

“Bo-Bokuto!” he shouts and the white-haired man releases his hands and turns back around to face him. He looks worried. In Kuroo’s mind he thinks there’s only one way to fix the situation. Perfectly, in time with the song he mouths, “To the fella over there with the hella-good hair, won't you come on over, baby? We can shake, shake, shake…” His face is trained into nonchalance and he looks devastatingly handsome as he performs. Bokuto’s face lights up. Kuroo wonders if it’s because he knew the words or because Bokuto thinks the ‘hella-good hair’ is in reference to him. He stops when thick arms wind around his neck. Bokuto is laughing delightedly. Their bodies stay a safe distance apart. “I’m having a really good time!” Kuroo presses the words into the other man’s ear with his lips.

 

Bokuto grins and nods so hard it looks like his head might come loose from his neck, “Me too, bro! Me too.” They continue to smile at one another, bodies not really moving in time with the music anymore. They’ve forgotten they’re meant to be dancing. They’re just looking at each other. Breathing together. Bokuto snaps out of it first, “Dude, give me your number? We should totally do this again!”

 

“Sure.” Kuroo lets go of the other man to slide his phone out of the back pocket of his tight, black jeans.

 

“We could start a night _without_ me spilling a drink over you!” Bokuto says, warm hands on Kuroo’s shoulders. The dark hair boy pretends to look confused.

 

“But that was such a fun way to begin an evening.” They both chuckle. Kuroo looks down at his phone, he has two messages and a missed call. “Shit.”

 

“Everything alright, man?”

 

“Yeah, fine.” One of the messages is from Daichi: _Suga and I are feeling kind of tired. Not really up to Sakura. Wanna come to ours tomorrow?_ The missed call is from Terushima, as is the second message: _I’m outside_. Kuroo checks the time on the message. Only six minutes ago. “I gotta go, man. The hot blonde’s outside.” Something flickers across Bokuto’s face for a moment, but it’s gone so quickly that Kuroo can’t get a solid grasp on what it is.

 

“Ok, bro, no worries. Give me your number quick, yeah?” Kuroo does so and Bokuto calls it and hangs up. “Have a _really_ good night!” The white-haired man winks. Kuroo looks at Bokuto’s face one last time, sort of committing it to memory and then turns, making his way off of the dancefloor and through the crowd. This time Bokuto doesn’t pull him back. Kuroo feels sad for a reason that eludes him

 

Slowly, Kuroo squeezes past crowds of drunk guys shouting the words to the song that’s playing and drunk girls downing drinks and high-fiving each other. He grabs his jacket from where he left it and pulls it on.

 

“You off, man?” Kuroo looks up, it’s Ogano.

 

“Yeah, I gotta meet someone.”

 

“Fair enough, it was good meeting you! Sorry about the drink and stuff.”

 

“No worries. Have a good night! Look after Bokuto!”

 

“Sure thing, man. Laters.” Ogano disappears into the crowd. Kuroo walks through the door and onto the stairs that lead out to the street. He makes it down just three steps when he hears his name being shouted from behind him.

 

“Ku-Kuroo.” Bokuto is out of breath. He leans one hand on Kuroo’s shoulder and clutches his own chest with the other.

 

“What’s the matter? Are you ok?” Kuroo’s hands are on Bokuto’s waist, steadying him.

 

“Yeah, bro. I just had to do this-”

 

It’s the best first kiss Kuroo has ever had.

 

Bokuto’s mouth tastes like whiskey still and Kuroo licks it from his tongue. Their fingers tangle desperately in each other’s hair. Their lips slide slickly against one another. Bokuto begins to pull away, but Kuroo chases him with his mouth. The edges of perfect teeth scrape gently at Kuroo’s bottom lip and it makes him moan into Bokuto’s mouth. His fingers grip tighter. Their bodies press towards each other. When they finally pull apart, their lips are glistening with saliva and they’re panting for breath. Their eyes are soft and drunk, but not just with alcohol.

 

“Fuck.” Kuroo breathes.

 

“Yeah.” Bokuto agrees, suddenly coy. He brushes his nose against that of the taller boy, “I’ll call you, ok?” Kuroo nods, not really knowing what else to say.

 

The air outside feels obscenely cold after the heat of the club. After the heat of Bokuto’s body. Kuroo begins to call Terushima, but catches sight of him leaning against a vending machine across the road, bathed in its neon glow.

 

“Hey!” The blonde shouts and Kuroo crosses over to him, arms wrapped around himself to stave off the cold. “You have a good night?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, it was fun. How was yours?”

 

“Ugh, you know, it was work, so...” Teru waves his hand in a vague motion. “Taxi back to yours?”

 

“Yeah…listen, Teru…” Kuroo smiles what he hopes is his most handsome, crooked smile, “baby, I’m pretty wasted and I don’t think I’m going to be up to much tonight, y’know.” The younger man smirks and nudges Kuroo with his shoulder.

 

“Can’t hold your drink anymore, huh, old man? No worries, you wanna just head home and cuddle? Maybe you can give me an apology blowjob tomorrow morning for getting my hopes up?” Kuroo laughs and wraps an arm around him.

 

“That sounds do-able.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments or @cosmacfoxdust on tumblr <3


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